Chapter Five

“Okay, Knox. Just stay inside. This will be over soon.”

Hanging up the phone with Knox took more willpower than Farrah had thought it would. Hearing his voice and knowing he was safe helped. In fact, it was Ryder who had handed her his cell with the number already pulled up on the screen.

She handed the phone back to Ryder, who took it without a word.

“It’s almost over,” Blake said from his spot beside her at the small cafe table. “Besides, I bet he’s having the time of his life. Mom’s spoiling him rotten.”

“I can’t believe she isn’t angrier at me,” Farrah admitted.

“She’s been wanting grandkids so much, I think Knox could have been a stray off the street and she’d have taken him in. No doubt she’s stuffed him with enough food, he’ll have gained ten pounds by the time you see him again.”

Farrah laughed softly, picking the muffin in front of her apart. “He’s probably soaking it up. I’ve done what I can for him, but we’ve never had a big family. Dinners and holidays and all that are always just us.” The moment she said it, Farrah tried to cover it. “I don’t mean it was bad, it wasn’t. It was just…”

Ryder set his hand on hers. “I get it. No matter what else happens, I hate to tell you, but Knox has gotten himself a set of grandparents.”

Farrah struggled to decide how she felt about Knox suddenly having family. One of the fears that plagued her was what would happen to Knox if she died. He had no other family he knew, had no one else.

The fact that Knox had some splinter of connection was…odd. She liked it, but also felt as though she were sharing her son, and she’d never had to do that before.

“I don’t know what you expect to see just watching that place,” Farrah said to change the subject.

Their table in the cafe gave them a perfect view of the pawn shop across the street, and of the questionable people walking in and out of it.

“Recon. You’ve always been too impatient.”

“I’m not impatient.”

All three alphas stopped and stared at her, eyebrows lifted in an identical look, as though she couldn’t possibly believe that nonsense.

Which, she supposed, was fair. All the times when Farrah had jumped the gun, when she’d been unable or unwilling to wait. It never had been her thing.

Waiting was a recipe for disaster. Waiting meant she was already two steps behind. She much preferred to be preemptive, to deal with things before they become emergencies.

Which meant just sitting there, picking apart a blueberry muffin, was killing her type A personality.

“What exactly are we looking for?”

Blake leaned over and stole some of the muffin from her plate. “We’ll know it when we see it.”

“Not helpful.”

Pax grabbed a piece of the muffin as well, then set his elbows on the table and leaned in. “There’s a certain sort of person who goes into a shop like that. You’re looking at broke twenty-year-olds, bargain hunters, that sort. They’ll either go in and browse, buy things or maybe bring something in to sell through the left side door.”

Farrah ignored the alphas’ thievery, especially because she knew damned well that if they ate all her muffin, they’d get her another. She focused on the people walking in and out of the store.

Strange to think the alphas can tell anything from them.

Then again, Farrah could tell quickly when a someone walked into her restaurant if they were going to tip well, or they’d stiff the server, or they’d need to be escorted out. Maybe no matter what someone’s job was, they learned to read the people they dealt with.

She studied the faces of the alphas, not the people across the street.

Ryder watched closest, his bottom lip shimmering with tea from when he’d take slow sips from his cup. It was herbal, because he’d never get hyped on caffeine.

Blake sat back, munching on the pilfered muffin, his full lips tipped into a half smile as he kept his gaze on the store. Funny how different the two alphas were, with Ryder looking alert and careful, and Blake as though he were having the best time relaxing.

That was how the two were, though. Their friendship had confused her at first, since Blake and Pax seemed inseparable, like twins who somehow didn’t share any DNA. Then Ryder was there, more careful, more level-headed. Somehow, three people who should never have meshed had ended up creating a bond between them that had lasted longer than any Farrah had ever created.

And Pax, as she turned to study him, wasn’t staring at the store. Nope, he was focused on Farrah, a smile absent from his lips—but no anger there, either.

It was as though he were trying to figure her out, as if he had questions that he might find answers to if he only stared a little harder. His deep blue eyes struck her the most. They were familiar, and not just because she’d stared into her son’s matching eyes for fifteen years.

Strange how, after so long, Farrah felt as though she could have fallen right back into him, into the trio, into the connection there.

It would be so easy. She could loosen her grip on everything, let others help her shoulder some of the weight. What would it be like to have someone to lean on? Someone she could call when life overwhelmed her, when things threatened to pull her under?

Then she thought again about their absence, about how long it had taken for those scars to heal—as well as they had ever healed—and about how many tears she’d cried as she’d moved forward.

It had taken more than a few falls for her to build herself up, to create something for herself, to give her son a life. Was she willing to risk that all? To want, or worse yet, to need, someone she didn’t really believe would stay?

What if they did it for Knox alone?

Farrah shook her head and looked down at her food.

Trusting them was far too dangerous a thing.

Before Pax could comment, and an inhalation by him said he was probably going to, Ryder broke in. “Black hoodie.”

Everyone turned to look at a young man dressed in a black sweater, hood up, who stood just outside the door. His gaze moved around. Nervous? She couldn’t size up a criminal, but if he’d walked into her restaurant, she’d have had servers watching him for a dine-and-ditch risk.

Maybe I’m better at this then I thought.

Blake leaned closer, sliding his arm across the back of her chair. “He’s got a backpack over his shoulder, fingers curled around the strap like someone might grab it. Add in that when he reached down to tie his shoe, the pistol tucked into his pants was obvious. He’ll head into the shop in a minute, stay in there for about ten, then come back out.”

“How do you know?”

Blake’s breath was warm against her ear, and it made her heart quicken. “We’re no strangers to this. The thing is, this place is on the books. If they’re running drugs, they aren’t doing it from here. Whatever is in his backpack, whatever he’s bringing in, is more important. Probably cash, if I’m guessing. They bring it in and pretend people bought things for far more than they did. It gets that money on the books and legal.”

“So he’s got a bunch of money in a backpack? How is that supposed to help?”

“Because anyone who is bringing money here is someone Michael trusts. It means he’ll probably know something useful.”

“But if Michael trusts him, he won’t say anything.”

“Well, not right away,” Blake said.

“We can be very persuasive,” Pax added in, and when Farrah turned to look at him, her cheeks heated at the blatant meaning there.

Thankfully, she didn’t have to respond before Ryder got up from his seat. They dropped the dishes off at the counter, and Farrah followed close behind Pax, with Ryder behind and Blake beside her.

They rounded the corner to a small parking lot off to one side, where the sedan they’d rented sat.

As tense as Farrah felt, as unsure about what the plan was, she had to admit to a certain level of comfort. Between the four of them, she doubted that anything that bad could happen.

When the thought came, when she leaned just a hair against Blake as if that were what she needed in that moment, Farrah cursed herself.

Why do I keep falling for them?

She pulled away, putting distance between her and the alphas—not so much as to put her in danger, because she wasn’t an idiot, but enough that she wasn’t at risk of brushing against them.

Ryder let out a sigh, the sort of sound that said he wasn’t thrilled with her behavior but was also not shocked.

Farrah opened her mouth to say something, but Blake moved quicker.

He pressed her against the car, his body tight against hers.

And good lord, it was like she was sixteen again. Her breath stuttered in her lungs, any objection she might have made dying when she felt so much of his strong body against her, especially as it brought up how much more she wanted to feel.

He set a hand on her hip and his other on the back of her neck. It forced her to stare up and into his eyes, giving her no place to hide.

Not that she wanted to hide right then. Nope, he’d moved in so fast that none of her smarts, none of those screaming pieces of good advice in her head, could catch up to tell her to knock it off.

Instead, she leaned more against him, setting her hands on his wide chest as if she could will him with a look alone to cross the distance and kiss her.

And did she ever want to kiss him. None of them had kissed her during her heat, as if it were a line they couldn’t cross.

Then again, that had been the point. It hadn’t been romance. It had been need.

Blake lowered toward her face, but just when she expected a kiss, he bypassed her lips to whisper into her ear instead, “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“You go cold, like you just remembered we conned your grandma out of her pension or something.”

“A better question is why you’re doing this.”

His lips brushed her ear and she could feel his smirk. “It’s a distraction.”

“Why do you need to distract me?”

“Not for you, for our buddy in the sweater, so we look like we’ve got a reason to be here. No one gets suspicious of horny people making out. But are you saying I distract you?”

Farrah pressed her lips together. An answer would only say things she wasn’t even close to admitting.

Thankfully, the universe seemed to provide, because noises behind Blake made her twist to look past his large frame, despite the fact that he didn’t make it easy.

She managed to catch the action just as Ryder’s fist connected with the man in the hoodie’s jaw, a hit that drew her eyes wide. The other man went down, though he wasn’t out. He tried to lift himself to his feet, but Pax used a foot on his back to shove him down again before pulling the pistol free. A quick pat down resulted in a phone as well before Pax and Ryder cuffed the man’s hands behind him. Farrah ignored the heat on her cheeks at the idea of them having cuffs.

Blake tugged Farrah away from the trunk of the sedan in time for the other two to open it and toss the bound man into the small, dark space. When the trunk clicked shut, the distraction part made sense.

“You could have warned me,” Farrah bit out.

Blake’s unrepentant smile said everything. “You’re sweeter when you’re caught off guard. If I told you that you needed to pretend to like me, you’d probably have just bitten something off.”

“I still might.”

Blake gave a soft laugh before nodding toward the sedan. “Don’t threaten me with a good time. Come on, we’ve got an interrogation to get through.”

Farrah brushed past Blake, quite tired of being outmaneuvered by his smart mouth, especially since she still wanted so badly to feel it against her.

Instead, she slid into the passenger seat of the car, perfectly happy with the large alphas being forced to cram into the backseat.

Serves them right.